


Marry the (K)Night

by SadistiKitteh



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh the Abridged Series
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Car Accidents, Eloping, Feefshipping, M/M, Minor Injuries, Sexual Jokes, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-13 14:47:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21496015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadistiKitteh/pseuds/SadistiKitteh
Summary: After the events of season 3, Marik whisks Bakura away to elope. Bakura wants to tell Marik they might not be together long, but has a difficult time trying to break the news.
Relationships: Yami Bakura/Marik Ishtar
Comments: 30
Kudos: 26
Collections: Yu-Gi-Oh! It's Time to G-G-G-Gift! [Mini-Exchange]





	1. TRACK 01- Marry You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [idalialilium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/idalialilium/gifts).

> Playlist is in the end notes if you like that sort of thing :P In a sense, this entire fic is based around this playlist. You could say it's their eloping/wedding playlist c; Hope you enjoy!

It was rare for Bakura to get time to himself, his partner in the past being sure to keep himself glued to his side as much as possible. Being on his own this long felt strange now. He was free to plot against the Pharaoh as he wished, no distractions or silly plans that didn’t involve a single mention of a knife or murder.

Yet here he was, staring at the ceiling of his host’s hotel room like he had nothing to do.

Really, he had no idea where to even start. He was still getting used to being on his own again, and now he had no one to bounce ideas off of. Even a stupid plan was better than none at all, if only to kill a little time.

Bakura didn’t even know why he was just lying around now, but he started to suspect it was like he was waiting for some–

A rev of a motorcycle snapped Bakura out of his thoughts, but it was the sound of something hitting the sliding glass door that made him sit up.

He rolled his eyes and went to check out the noise, ignoring the way his heart beat faster in his borrowed chest.

Bakura approached the balcony he heard the object hit, barely missing a pebble glancing off the wall and past his face. “Bloody–”

“Whoops.”

Bakura glared the best he could at his former partner below. It was easier to look more annoyed than he felt when he nearly got hit with a small rock. “What is it _this_ time, Marik?”

“Be patient Bakura, I need to get the right song!”

Bakura only then noticed the sidecar attached to the bike, and the boombox Marik was fiddling with. He crossed his arms, resigned to the fact that this was the most entertaining thing to happen to him all day. “What the hell do you need a song–”

His question stopped dead at the sound of upbeat music playing from the speakers, just barely drowning out Marik’s laugh at getting the music to play. He found himself drawn to how Marik’s hips swayed to the music as he started to dance, just long enough to be caught off guard when Marik started to sing.

“_It's a beautiful night! We're looking for something evil to do!_”

Oh. This wasn’t happening.

“_Oh Bakura! I think I wanna marry you!_”

It was happening. Damn it all, this was happening.

“_We can be evil for life! And do it together too! Hey Bakura! I really wanna marry you!_”

Bakura not-so subtly pinched his arm. This definitely wasn’t a dream.

All he could focus on was Marik dancing as he openly sang off-key about wanting to marry him. Was this a joke? He looked all around for one of the Evil Counsel hiding in an alley snickering to themselves, or even a gaggle of fangirls waiting in the wings for when he…

Bakura shook his head. No, this wasn’t serious, Marik was only fooling around to get his attention. And then he’d end up climbing on the motorbike, driving off into the sunset, _oh Zorc help him he was already picking out venues in his head_.

“_Hey babyyy, I wanna be evil with yoou!_”

The way Marik looked up at him as he sang, the same damn look Marik always gave him when he excitedly went on about his ‘evil’ plans. With exactly the same conviction. It was the only thing that Bakura clung to, that this wasn’t just some playful joke and Marik would play it off like every other time he alluded to something in public to tease him.

Bakura’s face flushed more and more, both from how Marik looked at him and the dancing. He was frozen in place, lost for words as his partner continued his display.

He was barely aware of when the music finally stopped, torn between finally throttling Marik for being a tease and pulling him into the side car for a half-hour long makeout session. Fangirls be damned.

“Hey Bakura! Bakoooraaah!”

Bakura snapped out of his shock, too stunned to hide how he felt anymore. Marik held out a small square box in his hand and Bakura’s heart skipped a beat. “I…”

Fuck it. Fuck it all, he’ll take this moment like he’d take everything else.

Bakura sped back inside, searching for things he’d need for his host wherever they were going. Only to see a bag already packed and waiting at the door.

‘Host?’

‘_There’s condoms and lube in the front pocket, and enough money to get him a nice ring. Just don’t leave me too sore, spirit!_’

Bakura flushed both out of embarrassment and shock. ‘You’re...fine with this?’

‘_Not the worst bloke I could get buggered by._’

‘...Indeed.’

He didn’t need more permission than that, grabbing up the bag and heading out of the hotel. He didn’t even question how Ryou knew to pack a bag, too distracted by what he still had a hard time believing _wasn’t_ a dream.

Walking briskly out of the building, he spotted Marik tossing the ring box back and forth in his hands. Bakura still was unsure, face a mask of indifference and preparing for the ‘gotcha’ at any moment.

Marik looked up noticing Bakura approaching and grinned in that goofy way that made Bakura brace himself. “Jeez Bakura, I thought you were going to make me come get you!”

“What were you thinking, there could have been fangirls watching!” Bakura hissed, gripping his bag tightly.

“Oh, them. Yeah, Pegasus has that handled, we’re all good! Besides, they need to be distracted for us to get away in peace.”

Bakura’s eye twitched. “What?”

“We’re eloping, Bakura!”

“We’re– What makes you think I would agree to this?!”

Marik raised an eyebrow and glanced at the hastily packed bag in Bakura’s hands. Bakura ignored how his cheeks burned. “How do I get pulled into these plans of yours?”

Marik grinned and moved closer to Bakura, patting his head. “Because you can’t help yourself, Fluffy.”

Bakura huffed and glared, but the venom of his glare evaporated when Marik handed him the box. He held it out in his palm, staring at it like it would disappear at any moment. He was about to peek inside but Marik snatched the box before he could.

“Not yet, Bakura! They need to be kept safe in your bag, we can’t put them on yet.” Marik went ahead and opened Bakura’s bag, dropping it inside.

And Bakura let him, still unable to process what was going on and still waiting for an explanation that would never come.

“Now put your bag in the sidecar, we’re not missing the sunset getaway!”

“Sunset…?” Bakura looked up at the sky, seeing that the sun was just starting to set.

“Come on, Kitty!”

Bakura sighed, still annoyed at the nickname but complying all the same. He held tight onto Marik as he started the bike and rode off. He couldn’t believe his fantasy was unfolding before his very eyes. The sunset was beautiful and Bakura took in the moment as he settled against Marik’s back.

* * *

Bakura tried and failed to stifle a groan as he stretched out his spine. Had he known they would have been on the bike for so long, he would have happily taken the side car. Well, it was much too late now. Besides, he’d spent upwards of four hours with his body pressed against Marik’s back. In the past, he would have given up just about anything for even a couple minutes.

Despite how sore _he_ was, Marik didn’t seem bothered as much. He casually leaned on his bike while waiting for Bakura to recover, staring up at the night sky. The sight of Marik so calm and serene, wind lightly tossing his hair to frame his face, caused an explosion of butterflies in Bakura’s stomach.

Or maybe bats. Bats sound more evil. Eloping or not, he was still an evil, evil villain.

Yet he couldn’t meet Marik’s eyes when he finally looked at him instead of the stars. “We’re close to the next town, then the fun part of the plan starts.”

Bakura snorted, covering his flustered expression with a smirk. “Eloping is a part of a scheme? And what exactly is this plan of yours?”

“Patience, Fluffy! First, we find some place to stash this baby.” Marik patted the motorcycle before mounting it.

“Surprised you’re abandoning it in another town.”

“A car can hold more of the cool stuff we get for being newlyweds! And If you can’t even go four hours on a bike, we’ll _never_ get there.”

“Get where exactly?” Bakura grumbled, but climbed back on the bike. He hated to admit Marik was right, but it was getting more and more obvious how right Marik has been these days.

“You’ll see. _Jeez_ you’re tense Bakura! No wonder you needed a break, you should do more stretches.”

“I’m as loose as I can be, Marik!”

Marik glanced back. “Do you need a back rub? Because I can give mean back rubs.”

Bakura’s cheeks grew dark and he hid it as best he could. Oh, he’d love a back rub alright. “Later, Marik.”

Marik laughed. “Yeah, you’ll probably need it.”

Marik turned on the bike once he was sure Bakura was secure and revved it for show, speeding down the road to the next town.

Bakura had little time to take in what they were doing. They were eloping, they were travelling to Zorc-knows-where to get married. And then what? Would they buy a bloody suburban house with a white-picket fence and live out their evil lives tormenting their neighbours by rearranging their sock drawers?

And maybe steal a couple things, their imaginary neighbours wouldn’t miss them.

It began to settle in what they were doing, but it was quickly followed by the cold reality of his situation. He was happy to sit back and let Yugi and his gaggle of ducklings collect all the Items, but it wouldn’t be long before he would need to make his move. As long as the Pharaoh was around, he couldn’t find peace

And he realized he never told Marik any of this, of what he planned for his own revenge. Marik didn’t know.

Oh _gods_, he couldn’t tell him now. He just wanted this, to let this happen and enjoy whatever Marik had planned after they got hitched. Bakura realized no matter what he did now, it would upset Marik. He might refuse to elope anymore or worse, abandon him completely. He’d gotten used to having a partner, and there’s a huge possibility that he might not come out alive. He wouldn't get to see Marik one last time or tell him how much he–

Bakura snapped out of it to a hand over his, realizing at some point Marik had pulled over.

“Bakura, if you’re gonna get sick, please don’t do it on me. I didn’t bring other clothes.”

“Huh?”

“You were squeezing me, I told you to do that if you needed off or something.”

Bakura looked up, seeing the slight concern on Marik’s face. “And you look pale, Fluffy. I mean, you’re always pale! But you somehow look… paler.”

Bakura pulled his hands back, sitting back on the idling bike and rubbing his face. “Give me a moment.” He grumbled, trying not to show how much his hands started shaking.

“It’s just a couple more miles, will you be okay?”

Bakura thought he should get it all over with and tell Marik what bothered him, yet he nodded. He couldn’t look at Marik, worried that he’d somehow figure out what was going through his head. Bakura knew he wasn’t a complete moron, but bringing anything up now felt wrong somehow.

He settled back against Marik’s back, hugging him close and tapping his side to tell him he was ready to go. He felt Marik’s hand over his, gently squeezing his fingers. Before he could even consider what the action meant, Marik drove the bike back onto the road at a more casual pace.


	2. TRACK 02- Waking Up In Vegas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Xmas is coming up now and I have rehearsals/a concert for the rest of this week on TOP of that, I am updating with TWO CHAPTERS.
> 
> Happy Holidays, y'all <3

Marik looked sheepish as he pulled into the gas station. Of course Marik would forget to put a full tank in his bike before planning to elope, but Bakura didn’t blame him for that. The small bag Bakura saw in the sidecar that was obviously packed in a rush told him just how spur-of-the-moment this plan was. He needed to relieve himself anyway, maybe grab a bottle of soda, maybe gather the courage to basically ruin this whole thing for both of them.

No, he’s saving Marik the pain of it. That’s all.

Bakura wandered into the dinky gas station, letting Marik deal with filling up the bike. He wandered towards the back, pausing to eye an interesting piece of jerky before slipping into the bathroom.

He really did need to go, but he stopped at the smudged mirror to give a good look at himself. He could just see the outline of the Ring under his shirt and bags starting to show under his eyes from driving all night. He didn’t look happy, like he just got engaged. It nagged at him that he felt dread instead of his initial excitement, bogged down by the weight of what will happen after their show ends. What Marik’s reaction could be.

Bakura had to get this over and done with. Rip off the bandage and improvise the rest, perhaps Marik would even ignore him and continue on with his plans. No, even Marik couldn’t ignore something as serious as losing his partner in crime for good.

He finally turned away from his reflection, mulling over his thoughts as he relieved himself. By the time he was finished and drying his hands (he was evil, not unsanitary), he solidly decided he needed to tell Marik before they reached their first destination.

He stepped out of the bathroom just in time to see Marik chatting happily with the bored-looking cashier as he paid for gas. Bakura approached slowly, wanting to enjoy Marik’s blissful ignorance before he shattered his fantasy for good.

Before he could even speak, Marik looked at him and smiled like Bakura was the first glimmer of sunrise. “Hey, there’s my fiance! Ready to go?”

Bakura’s cheeks were on fire, out of embarrassment and the feeling of bats in his guts hearing Marik call him _his_. He grit his teeth. “Let’s go, Marik.”

He grabbed Marik’s hand and pulled him to the entrance, and Marik laughed. _Laughed_!

“Marik–”

“Sounds like you need a cat-nap, Fluffy. Don’t worry, the next town is close and we can sleep!”

“Marik, we need to talk about something.”

Marik paused, staring off to one side in thought. “Well, we can do that when we get to the motel! You’re right, we’ll need to think about catering, and the flowers, the honeymoon…”

Bakura just stared as Marik rambled off his list, his heart settling like a stone at his feet. He couldn’t do it. Damn it all, he couldn’t take this away from Marik. He looked so genuinely excited…

“...And of _course_ we need to pick songs! Oh and who walks down the aisle,” Marik looked back at Bakura, “I bet you wanna do that, huh Bakura?”

Bakura blinked and nodded dumbly, not exactly sure what he was agreeing to. He had an idea what eloping was, but he was pretty sure it was a lot less planning than what Marik was doing. He had a suspicion Marik knew about as much as he did about it.

Bakura followed Marik to his bike again, only numbly registering that Marik still held his hand. He had to explain to Marik, before it was too late to tell him. As he climbed on the back of the bike again, Bakura realized it would only get harder from here.

He couldn’t avoid the possibility of losing Marik over this.

* * *

Bakura thumbed through a magazine, waiting with their stuff for Marik to say goodbye to his bike. He could just hear his voice floating in from one of the windows that was left open a crack.

“Make sure _no one_ gives her joyrides… and she likes getting a nice polish bi-weekly, don’t you guys even think about getting a scratch on her!”

“We only lock the bikes up, Mr. Ishtar. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

By the employee’s tone, it sounded like he was used to people like Marik making demands like this.

“Okay, but if I see scratches, I’m sicking my hubby on you!”

Bakura fought a groan, dropping the magazine in his lap and covering his face to smother any sound. Gods damn it all, he was already calling him…_that_. Bakura was really trying to do the right thing for once; tell the truth to his now future _husband_ to let him choose if he still wanted this or not. The longer he waited, the longer he knew the eventual awkward drive back would be.

Bakura stood when Marik walked in, curious about what they’d be doing now. Marik just slumped in the seat beside him. “Now we just wait for our car to get here and then we’ll have a nap.”

Huh. Didn’t even try to make it sound more evil than normal.

Bakura carefully sat back down, nudging Marik’s arm. “Your bike will be fine, Marik.”

“I can’t polish a car, Bakura! And they have mufflers, you can’t make loud vrooming noises with them.”

“Please don’t make vrooming noises while we’re driving, Marik.”

Marik scoffed as if scandalized. “Of course not! I still have my evil eloping playlist, we’ll blast that all the way there!”

Marik made a playlist for this. Marik made a _bloody playlist_ to elope to.

His hopes that Marik didn’t notice how painful this was getting to Bakura were quickly dashed, Marik's head tilting slightly at Bakura's lack of response. “Umm...we can take turns picking what plays. But I go first! I want to dramatically reveal where we’re getting married.”

Oh no. Oh may Zorc devour what’s left of him, he said the word. He planned this much and that far. This was so, so real and he was about to shatter Marik’s hopes and dreams before the car could even get here.

“Marik, I think we really need to–”

“Car’s here!” Marik called, jumping out of his seat. Bakura swore that, just for a moment, Marik looked nervous. “Come on Bakura, we can talk when we get to a motel.”

Bakura sighed in defeat and shouldered Marik’s little bag while dragging his own behind him to their rental car. He paused, watching as Marik set the radio into the trunk of a slightly battered white Mustang convertible. He had a sinking feeling there was a specific reason Marik chose _white_ this time around.

“It’s not the best, but we want to get to our venue in style.” Marik turned and beamed, taking Bakura’s bag to put in the trunk.

"Where did you even buy this, Marik?"

Marik waved his hand as the driver stepped out of the car. "Oh, just a lot close by. This beauty was a steal, Bakura! The guy said it half off as a wedding gift, he even cleaned it up for us!"

Bakura eyed over the rental driver, trying to look as intimidating as possible while Marik paid the driver for the car. Like hell he’d let Marik get ripped off for a car like this, or scammed out of more money for having it driven here. He quickly got into the driver’s seat as soon as Malik handed him the keys, and frowned when he immediately had trouble getting it started right away.

“Marik…”

“It’s fine, Fluffy! It’s just until we get there.” Marik said as he slid into the front seat.

Marik pulled out his iPod and connected it to the revamped sound system, looking at Bakura excitedly. “Okay, where we’re going is in this song, so listen.”

Bakura didn’t respond, just waited for the song to play as he pulled the car out of the lot, adjusting to how this car drove. It didn’t take him long to guess; once the song started, he nearly hit the brakes out of reflex.

“Vegas? Las _bloody_ Vegas, Marik?”

“It’s perfect! All of the celebrities get married there, and we’re the most popular evil villains around! It’ll be perfectly evil.”

“It’s a whole day’s drive, Marik.” Bakura eyed the car as best he could while still watching the road. He hoped this thing wasn’t as clunky as it felt.

“Well, maybe two if we keep making stops.” Marik shrugged, tapping his foot to the song as it continued to play.

Bakura felt like the Gods were taunting him, like this was set up to give him time to do the right thing. Jokes on them, he was still a very evil villain, and he’d let Marik happily believe they could really get married. Evil married, very evilly, with a flashy red dress shirt to show just how evil their wedding would be.

Fuck, he just wanted this.

Marik put a hand on Bakura’s arm, pointing out a small motel ahead of them. It was such a gentle touch that he nearly missed the turn. He realized he’d been gripping the wheel tightly, and tried to relax his hands.

“You know, I wouldn’t rent a car that would explode on us.” Marik said once he parked, pouting a little. “You can trust me, right Bakura?”

“Of...course, Marik.”

Bakura sat in the driver’s seat, hands still on the wheel as Marik gathered their belongings. He stared at the wheel, conflicted.

“Come on Bakura!”

“Just...come get me when you’ve got the room key. I need a moment.” Bakura hesitantly looked up, expecting hurt on Marik’s face but seeing no expression at all.

That, frankly, was a bit more worrying. “It’s a lot to take in Marik.”

“Yeah...it’s a big step.” Marik laughed nervously.

He paused, then set down their bags and the radio, walking to the drivers side and looking at Bakura thoughtfully. Bakura was confused but before he could ask what he wanted, Marik gently cupped Bakura’s cheek and pecked his lips; an action that caused all thoughts to freeze in Bakura’s mind.

He almost forgot what Marik’s lips felt like.

“I’ll see if they have the sex number room free, just for you, Fluffy.”

An honest chuckle spilled from Bakura’s lips, and he didn’t bother to hide the fond look in his eyes for the brief break Marik gifted him from his thoughts. Even if he was sure Marik would take it back if he really knew what bothered him so much.

“Excellent.”

Marik let his hand linger on Bakura’s face before pulling away, grabbing their things and hurrying to the reception. Bakura stayed in the car, no longer conflicted.

He had to tell Marik. He just needed to figure out if he could now.

He was no closer to figuring it out when Marik came back to get him. He held out the key, bold letters reading 69 on it, and he smiled. Actually smiled, as much as it killed him to see how happily Marik reacted to that.

Once they got up to their room, he flopped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling of their room, the light of the sun showing faint water stains above him. Bakura felt the bed beside him shift and Marik settled next to him. “Good idea, nap first and then talk later. We can pick up what we need as we drive to Vegas after that.”

Bakura closed his eyes, enjoying Marik’s body pressed against him and the comfort of the bed. Yes, rest now and then talk later. Another genius plan from Marik Ishtar.


	3. TRACK 03- Counting Stars

Bakura’s nap had been, predictably, restless. He still was somewhat refreshed and, after gently moving from Marik’s side, went to take a shower. It wouldn’t be long before Marik woke up, and he needed time to think about how he’d break his plans to Marik.

The shower water was freezing cold no matter how hot he put it, so he turned it up as far as he dared before stepping in. Fuck! Cold, fuck this! Bakura scrambled to turn it off and shook his hair out, his winged bangs popping up like they’d never been wet at all.

Well, he was more awake now. And Marik was definitely awake too, since he was certain he cursed out loud. Bakura wrapped himself in one of the provided towels, trying to hide his shivering as he walked out. Marik, seeing how tense Bakura looked, laughed.

“You look like you just fell in a tub, Kitty!”

“Bugger off.” Bakura grumbled, searching his bag for something to wear.

“Soo, what do you wanna tell me, Bakura?”

Bakura’s hand froze. Not a moment to even think about how to break it to him, huh?

“Yes, well, you see…” Bakura pulled the clothes from his bag, and Marik politely turned away to let him dress.

Marik waited for him to continue, the room was eerily silent, and Bakura lost his nerve completely. Blurting this out while changing was not good timing.

“I thought when you elope, the point was that no one knows. We are hiding from those fangirls, right?”

Marik suddenly laughed. “O-Oh, that’s all? I mean…” he cleared his throat, gripping the side of the bed a bit tight. “I just didn’t think any of those people were fangirls, you know? I thought it was okay. Is that why you were upset, Bakura?”

Far from it. And far from being upset at Marik, of all people. Bakura slipped on his shirt and ran the towel through his hair to dry it off. “I’m not upset, I’m…nervous. Very nervous.”

He must have sounded too honest, because Marik turned before being told it was okay to. “Silly Bakura, there’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s just us and I made sure this will be perfect!”

Bakura felt comforted by that, despite Marik still not knowing what was going on. Marik went on to tell him the plans he made, including the person marrying them HAD to impersonate Elvis. It sounded silly, but Bakura said nothing. If it made Marik happy, he’d do whatever.

Marik seemed to catch on to Bakura’s lack of response though, and nudged his side. “Hey, um… you know it’s not just about _me_, right?”

Bakura looked up, surprised that Marik would admit such a thing. “Well…”

“How am I supposed to know what you want if you don’t tell me, Bakura? I want this to be the happiest, evilest wedding ever!”

Bakura swore Marik was actually pouting. Damn him. “Perhaps it could use more knives.”

Marik’s eyes lit up. “Of course! You and your knives, I guess we can fit that somewhere…”

Bakura made an effort to supply his own ideas, though he wasn’t entirely keen on getting married in Vegas. The fact that most celebrities also got divorced quickly after being married in Vegas nagged at him too, but he wasn’t about to spoil Marik’s fun.

Maybe he could have a little fun with the dice games while they were there.

“Hey Bakura, what about the first dance? Do you know how to dance?” Marik stood without waiting for an answer, fishing his iPod from his bag. “We should practice, and blow everyone away with our sexy evilness!”

Bakura knew Marik’s mind was already made up, so he simply leaned against a wall and waited for whatever Marik had planned. Marik connected his iPod to the radio and pressed play, gesturing Bakura to come closer. Bakura raised an eyebrow at the music choice, and tried to stiffly move to the music.

“Jeez Bakura, you really need the practice.” Marik laughed, walking over and putting his hands on Bakura’s hips. “Let me help you.”

Bakura froze at the contact, automatically putting his hands on Marik’s shoulders as he let Marik move his hips. It was still stiff, but slowly relaxed as he dared to press his hip into Marik’s hand with each movement left and right.

“See? You’re getting it!”

Bakura chuckled, watching Marik’s own hips follow the movements. Marik leaned in close to his ear, making Bakura’s breath catch in his throat. “Maybe I could just dance and you stand next to me and look pretty.”

Bakura’s cheeks felt like fire, but he just focused on the firm grip Marik had on his hips. “Maybe a bit more practice and I could learn.”

“You just want me to keep guiding you!”

‘_Yes_. Gods yes, keep your hands right there, standing behind me and moving–’

“Well, dance lessons later, we’ve got places to be.”

Marik let go and Bakura made a quiet noise of protest. “Hehe, silly Kitty, we should get going if we want to make it by tomorrow.”

“Not a kitty.” Bakura grumbled. He wasn’t as bothered by the name as much as what thoughts he got pulled out of.

A bit of bickering and a quick lunch later, they were on the road again. Bakura relaxed more after an hour, and Marik put on his iPod again and flipped on one of Lady Gaga’s songs. By now, Bakura could easily tune out Marik singing along.

“You should walk down the aisle to this song, Bakura.”

Bakura listened a moment to the song playing and frowned. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh come on, it’s perfect! _Gonna marry! The ni-ight!_ That’s you, you’re the night, Bakura.”

“Still no.”

“Oh, pretty please? It would be amazing.”

“Not happening.”

“Hmmph! Fine, if you think you can do a better job, then _you_ pick the song.”

Bakura could see Marik pouting in the corner of his eye, he actually looked a bit upset. Dammit.

“If you want the song so bloody bad walking the aisle, you can do that part then.”

“But we already agreed on who does that! And then I have to change all the plans for the dress and the flowers and...” Marik groaned, holding his head.

Bakura slowed the car to look at Marik. "Did you say...dress?"

"I can look sexy in a dress, but I don't want one." Marik almost growled.

Bollocks. Need to calm Marik down. _Now_.

“Look, Marik, I’ll bloody pick something later and then we’ll figure out where to use that Gaga song.”

“Yeah.” Marik said, pausing his iPod, “I guess it’s more a song to dance to, and you can’t dance.”

“Right.”

Crisis averted, Bakura hoped. Last thing he wanted to find out is if Marik’s yami was actually in the Shadow Realm or not. He still wanted the wedding to be perfect in Marik’s eyes, and he was sure Melvin’s appearance fell in the ‘wedding ruiner’ category for both of them.

“Maybe we could do another song parody.” Marik said after a moment.

“Yes, and then we could put it in our wedding video.”

“Bakura, that’s perfect! And we can make so much from selling it to our fangirls.”

Bakura really didn’t want to have a video, or a reminder that it happened being spread around. But he had to admit, making their fangirls pay for their wedding seemed too deliciously evil (and fitting) for him to pass on. Marik eventually turned the music on again, singing his heart out like the argument never happened.

* * *

Bakura slammed the hood of the convertible, happy that the engine didn’t explode on them at least. Marik huffed as he hung up his cellphone, pouting. “Tow truck will get here soon.”

“It’s just a little engine trouble, Marik. We’ll get it fixed and be on our way.”

“But I wanted to be married by tomorrow, and that can’t happen when our friggin’ car won’t start!”

Bakura cleaned off his hands, tossing the stolen motel towel-now-rag into the backseat. “Tomorrow, a week from now. It won’t matter, we’ll figure it out.”

He looked up at Marik, watching him digging into his bag. Not really looking for anything, more like checking on what he had. Bakura wondered how spontaneous this was for Marik, and if he really didn’t plan much beyond them running off to get married.

Bakura moved next to him and took his hand, guiding him to the hood of the car before lying back on it. “Might as well enjoy the view while we’re out here.”

He waited for Marik to join him, looking up when he didn’t and seeing Marik was no longer there.

“Marik?”

“If we’re lying on a dirty car, then I’m putting something under us.”

Bakura sat up, watching as Marik came back into view and laid a blanket over the hood. They both laid back, looking up at the stars. It was too perfect, too romantic. He should really say something now, while they had time to talk.

He looked up at the sky, wondering if he could try getting Marik to make out with him until he forgot his revenge. Forgot everything and just lived in blissful ignorance like his partner. His fiance. His soon-to-be husband.

Perhaps Vegas was perfect for them. Even now, it all seemed so much and sudden. He wondered if Marik felt the same, too focused on making everything perfect to distract from how fast they were moving now.

He glanced at Marik, wanting to touch him yet not wanting to disturb the calm on his face.

“We’re really doing this, aren’t we?” Marik whispered suddenly, still looking at the stars.

“We are.”

“I thought you were going to think I was joking, at first. Or maybe that you weren’t a marrying kind of villain.”

Bakura smirked. “I did, and I guess I am. Thought you got set up by the fangirls or dared by one of the Counsel.”

“Psh, like I’d let those fools push _me_ around.”

Bakura hummed in agreement, glancing at Marik. “Did you invite any of them?”

“Ha! No way, you don’t give invites when you elope, Bakura. Silly.”

Bakura pretended that didn’t fluster him. Maybe now would be a good time, but he was a fool. He was greedy for this as much as anything else he took for himself. And he was very greedy for Marik.

He sat up with Marik when they spotted headlights, Marik relaxing noticeably seeing it was the tow truck. “About time!” He called out, throwing the blanket in the backseat once they both got off the convertible's hood.

Bakura watched as Marik approached the truck a moment before going to get their things from the backseat. He hoped this would be the last hitch in their plans, even if he was sure the Gods were trying to give him time to not be selfish and confess to Marik what was on his mind.

He wondered, if he succeeded in his goal, would Marik still be there at his side after it all?

Bakura refused to let his guilt get to him anymore, and climbed into the truck with Marik, each of their things in their laps. As they drove to the next town, Marik again let it slip that they were getting married. Marik glanced his way, and Bakura gestured that he didn’t care if Marik mentioned it. The rest of the ride was filled with Marik’s excited chatter about Vegas.

He hated to admit it to himself, but he wasn’t keeping his final revenge plan a secret to keep from ruining Marik’s plans anymore. Maybe he convinced himself at first, maybe it was part of it, but not the entire reason.

If he did lose, he’d lose everything. And facing that reality, he _needed_ a partner to stay at his side. He needed Marik, and he’d do anything to not spend his last conscious moments in this world alone.


	4. TRACK 04- Die Young/Runnin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets two songs because the tone shift warrants it c: (in case that isn't a clue on it's own, this chapter is where the argument/car accident is, so y'all know~)

After being unceremoniously dropped off at the nearest car shop and Marik demanding that their car be fixed as soon as possible, they went to find the nearest place to spend the night. Marik carried their luggage while Bakura held the radio. Bakura grunted as he had to readjust his hold on the thing for what felt like the millionth time.

“We should sell this bloody thing, it’s not like we’ll be using it in Vegas.”

“Yes we will, Bakura!” Marik huffed, “It can play my songs, so it stays.”

“Fine.”

Bakura ignored the confused look on Marik’s face at how quickly Bakura agreed. He wasn’t going to argue with Marik, he was tired and didn’t want to make the trip any more agonizing for either of them. The silence, however, proved to be the worst part of their trek to the motel.

Even when eventually checking in (and aside from Marik happily telling the receptionist they were eloping), Marik stayed quiet, simply sitting on the bed with their belongings.

Bakura began to wonder if he said something wrong.

“Do you wanna see the rings?” Marik said suddenly, fiddling with the handle of Bakura's bag.

Bakura looked up, having set Marik’s radio on the coffee table. “I thought it’s not until we get married.”

“Well, it’s supposed to be for luck, but that’s just silly superstition.”

Superstition Marik apparently believed up until now. Bakura sat beside Marik. “Sure, I can try mine on so we know it fits me.”

Marik waved his hand as he dug into Bakura’s bag for the ring box. “Of course it fits you, I made sure it will.”

Bakura wondered how Marik could have figured out his ring size. Before he could ask, Marik pulled out the box and held it up with a shout. “Yes! Okay, here. Look, this is yours and this one’s mine.”

Marik opened the box and Bakura stared at the rings. One definitely looked like Marik picked it out for himself, but the other was rather plain. And apparently his.

Marik must have noticed Bakura’s confusion, because he started to get flustered. “I know it’s not much, but if it means anything, I was supposed to give this to a girl.” Marik wrinkled his nose, “So now it’s your ring, because I’m not gonna marry some smelly girl.”

Bakura felt somewhat touched. It wasn’t as decorated as Marik’s, but it looked like Marik had it altered to what he had assumed Bakura's preferences were. The work looked somewhat rushed, but he wouldn’t complain. He liked the rebellious idea behind wearing this ring, and made him _eager_ to wear it for the rest of his life.

Bakura glanced up at Marik, smirking. “Are you sure, Marik? This sounds _dangerously_ like you’re going against your family’s wishes.”

Marik scoffed, gently pulling the ring out and taking Bakura’s left hand. “You make it sound like I’m not that evil.”

Bakura froze, breath held in anticipation as Marik slid the ring onto his finger. It fit snugly, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. He stared at his hand, and guilt pinched him. It was clearly altered, he could feel it; old gold always felt different than new, especially when it had been worn around for years.

"It's... perfect." Bakura exhaled, finding no other words to say.

As he adjusted to it being on his finger, Marik gently pulled it off. “Sorry, you’ll have to wait until we’re married to keep it.” he teased, his eyes bright with excitement.

“Speaking of which, we need to practice for our first dance!”

Marik quickly stuffed the ring box into Bakura’s bag again, then dug into his own bag for his iPod. Bakura frowned, staring at his hand. He could still feel the ghost of how the ring felt on his finger. “I thought I wasn’t going to dance.”

“Of course you are! The first dance is important, Fluffy. We have to show off our sexiness so everyone else will get jealous.”

“Doubt I’ll look all that sexy.” Bakura grumbled as Marik pushed the coffee table closer to the wall and plugged in the radio.

“Silly, you’re plenty sexy.”

Bakura felt his cheeks flush, pointedly looking away from Marik. He looked up hearing the song that Marik finally chose. “I thought our first dance would be Gaga.”

“We’ll work up to it, come on Bakura!”

Without any more warning, Marik took Bakura’s hands and pulled him to his feet. Bakura stumbled but Marik kept him steady. “I’ll lead, you follow.”

Bakura felt Marik’s hand wind around his waist and forgot any protest he had, letting Marik lead him into a ridiculous dance around their motel room. He surprised himself when Marik pulled away to spin him and he, as if on instinct, easily spun away from Marik before returning.

Under Marik’s guidance, he easily fell into the steps set up for him. Marik seemed so at ease, he began to sing along with the song. Bakura didn’t even care it hurt at times to hear Marik singing at the top of his lungs, he was actually enjoying himself. Muddled memories of a past he thought he'd lost to time resurfaced, losing himself to a night of celebration after gorging himself on stolen food.

A care-free laugh bubbled up from Bakura, loud enough that it caught Marik’s attention back to him.

“See, Fluffy? It’s fun, and we’re going to make everyone else so jealous!”

“Who are we making jealous, exactly?”

Marik hummed a moment. “The Pharaoh, I guess, and all the other boring married couples.”

“The Pharaoh better _not_ show up at our wedding.” Bakura growled, glaring at a wall like the Pharaoh was right there.

“Nah, he’s probably too busy fighting some lesser villains.”

Bakura laughed again, a lot less evil than he meant to sound. Marik stopped to change the song, but Bakura pulled him close for a kiss before he could pull away. Marik froze, then relaxed as he returned it. Their kisses deepened, growing more passionate with each pause for breath. By the time they pulled away to breathe, Marik’s arms wound fully around Bakura’s waist and Bakura’s hands clung to whatever part of Marik he could grab to keep steady.

“Bakura?” Marik breathed.

“Practicing for the wedding.”

Bakura’s eyes were lidded and a dazed smile grew on his face. Marik forgot about the iPod, gently pulling Bakura backwards towards the bed. “I think we could use more practice. For the wedding night.”

Bakura’s dazed smile became a lecherous grin, and his chuckle sounded like a purr of a content cat. At that moment, he forgot everything weighing on his mind. All he knew was Marik.

* * *

After picking up their car, Marik was insistent they get food to go and grab their things to leave. Bakura didn’t argue, still in a daze from their sudden passionate romp. He was happy no fangirls were around, or they would’ve definitely been drawn to the sounds they made.

Or rather, the sounds _he_ made.

He didn’t even mind that the car still was difficult to start up, or that it still didn’t feel secure. Despite that, he still brought it up to Marik. “I think we should make them take one more look, make sure nothing else is wrong.”

“It’s fine, Fluffy, it’s just to get us to Vegas, remember? And then we’ll win a bunch of money and buy an even sexier car!”

Bakura grunted but didn’t argue, instead turning their car onto the road. It wasn’t worth bickering about and he was still enjoying the fun evening they had replaying over in his head. If their wedding night was _anything_ like that...

“Bakura, you missed the turn!”

“Whoops.” Bakura was completely not sorry, making a quick U-turn to get into the parking lot of the motel.

“You’re so silly.” Marik nudged Bakura before they got out of the car. Marik insisted on taking care of checking out, and again Bakura didn’t argue. He just left to their motel room.

The moment Bakura started gathering their things, his lovemaking high dwindled and the weight around his neck reminded him of what his own plans were after all this. That he had to walk away from Marik in the end, likely without explanation if Zorc let him stray this far from his plans already.

How this was the first time he had been able to think he had a lifetime to enjoy being with Marik.

“_Spirit, you need to talk to him._” Ryou had been quiet through all his thoughts, but it seemed that now he couldn’t stay out of it any longer.

“Did you not see me trying that, or are you having too much fun with your deathshipping fanfiction in there?” Bakura hissed, hauling Marik’s bag over his shoulder.

Bakura could sense Ryou’s embarrassment, nearly giving him a blush. “_Don’t let him interrupt or make excuses, Spirit. If he really doesn’t know, he should. Don’t be selfish and hurt him._”

Bakura snarled at a nearby mirror, upset that Ryou knew exactly what he had worried he was doing.

“_Marik has fooled you before about how naive he was, don’t underestimate him._”

“I just want to get this over with and get to Vegas, then I’ll tell him.”

“_Spirit–_”

Bakura cut Ryou off, shoving him in the back of his mind and hopefully back to his soul room, where he couldn’t observe anything Bakura did in his body. It didn’t matter what he did, either everything would come crashing down around him or he could let Marik believe he'd be able to stay.

Let him become hurt and confused when the time came and Bakura was suddenly gone.

Had he not been used to having such joy torn away from him, the choice would have broken him. But Bakura’s face was simply neutral as he watched the moment of bliss fall through his fingers like sand. He gripped his bag handle tighter, hugged the radio closer to his chest, and fought down his despair.

He’d let Marik believe they could be married, and refused to let the fact he’d never see more than a couple months of that life ruin it.

He trudged out without noticing Marik calling out for him, quickly putting things in the car as Marik poked his head out of the motel. “Honey?”

Bakura blinked, looking at Marik strangely. After a moment, he realized Marik must have been talking to the receptionist about eloping again. He sighed. “I’m fine, _sweetheart_”

He didn’t mean to sound bitter, but it slipped out. And Marik noticed, giving a sign to the receptionist to give him a minute before going over to Bakura. “If you need another night, Bakura–”

“I’m fine, Marik. Let’s go, we want to make it to Vegas by tonight. Right?”

Marik looked at him with a hurt expression before replying. “Right.”

Bakura felt guilty watching Marik leave, realizing that he let his careful mask of indifference slip. It was easier to have lost someone already and move on, to turn those feelings into anger to fuel his revenge.

But Marik was not who he wanted to turn his anger onto, and the moment Marik came out again, Bakura took Marik’s hand. “I didn’t mean to snap at you Marik, I’m just...”

“Eager to get it over with?”

Bakura blinked as Marik pulled away, the slight bitterness in his tone catching him off guard. “What?”

“Come on, Bakura!”

There was no way Marik had overheard his talk with Ryou. Right? Bakura growled with frustration, but fought it down. No, he’ll find a way to fix this. Then Marik will be happy again and he won’t have ruined this for them both.

He climbed into the car and started it, surprised that it did so easily this time. He wasted no time in leaving, but quickly noticed the lack of music. Perhaps Marik forgot his iPod in his bag, and he would just get it at their next pit stop.

He didn’t realize Marik was already holding it, staring at his iPod expressionless. He was too focused on the road, trying to come up with a way to explain his outburst. It wasn’t until they were far from the last city that he noticed Marik plug it in, but still no music played. He took this long just trying to think of how to fix things, but now that he was reminded of it he missed the music filling the silence.

“Are you going to put on your playlist?”

No response. Bakura didn’t have to look at Marik to know he hurt him. He tried hard to avoid it and failed, so he figured now was as good a time as any to just tell him the truth. To explain his actions, even if it might hurt Marik more. “Marik.”

“I get it, you don’t have to tell me. It’s a joke, y’know. I wasn’t going to marry you, gay people marry other guys and I’m not–”

“_Don’t_”

Bakura sounded defeated, but his body language said anything but. He gripped the wheel, forcing himself to drive even as he knew he needed to pull over. This wasn’t their normal bickering, this was the start of an actual fight and he hated it. Hated he caused it and hated trying to do so while watching the road.

“What? That’s what you expect, right? This is all a joke just to show off how evil and sexy I am and I’m dragging you with me.”

“You wouldn’t do that. Not after so long. Not about this.” Bakura growled.

He felt the age of the ring on his finger, the look in Marik’s eyes as he talked about what he had, planned, the happiness in Marik’s voice when calling Bakura ‘honey’ or ‘fiance’. This was real, and Marik wanted this as much as he did. That was something Bakura never doubted.

“No. I wouldn’t.”

“Marik, I want this as bad as you do–”

“It doesn’t seem that way, you’ve been acting like I’ve been forcing you to do this since our first stop!”

“Believe me, I wouldn’t stick around if that wasn’t true.”

He prepared to come to a stop, too distracted from the argument to notice the slight resistance the steering wheel gave him when pulling a bit closer to the side of the road.

“Then why are you acting like you–”

Marik was interrupted by a loud pop and the car began to swerve on the road. Bakura grit his teeth as he fought to control the car and bring it to a stop, the sound of metal screeching and Marik screaming all the while.

The car finally came to a stop, the nose of the car digging into the dirt on the side of the road. Bakura felt hazy from whiplash but still turned his head to check on Marik.

Marik was gripping Bakura’s shoulder tight, something he failed to notice until now. His eyes were wide, almost far away but slowly coming back.

“Marik, we stopped, we’re okay.” Bakura felt the need to assure him, as if this damn car falling apart on them was somehow his fault.

Marik looked at Bakura, then the hand on his shoulder, and quickly pulled it away. He fumbled to undo his seat-belt, tried to force the door open, then unlocked it once he realized it was locked. He stumbled onto the road, looking pained in more ways than one.

Bakura followed suit, careful with how sore his body felt and how quick movements made him dizzy. Yep, this was worse than the bike ride. At least then he was pressed against Marik and he only had his spine to worry about.

He took a moment to look at the damage, following Marik’s gaze. One of the front tires was shredded, the rim bent and heavily dented, and the other was flat and likely torn somewhere. Bakura cringed, knowing this will delay this trip further. He didn’t really care, but it chipped away at what they had to spend for this trip _and_ the damn wedding.

It seemed like this wedding was doomed to never happen.

“No,” Marik mumbled, “I’m not giving up yet.”

“Marik?” Bakura called, flinching when he turned to look at Marik. He probably should see a doctor about possible injuries, but he wasn’t worried about that now.

Right now, Marik worried him.

“We’ll just get the car fixed and we can get to Vegas by tomorrow!”

“Marik, we almost crashed–”

Bakura wasn’t heard. Marik was already walking off into the small town nearby. He clicked his tongue and reluctantly followed, not wanting to let Marik walk into town alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That fade-to-black is probably the closest I'll get to writing anything intimate, and of course it's this fic that brings it out lol
> 
> Also changed the version of Die Young on the playlists because it 1. fit better and 2. was a version made before the last episode of season 3 of YGOTAS so I can totally use it ;P


	5. TRACK 05- Count On Me

With some convincing, Marik finally agreed that they should check out their injuries first and worry about the car later. “It wouldn’t be good if you pass out at our wedding.” Marik had said.

Bakura didn’t know how to respond to that, and felt worse when Marik stumbled a little close to the emergency clinic in town. Marik got to the receptionist before Bakura could, asking for them both to be looked at. He wasn’t sure if Marik was playing things up or genuinely felt this upset, but he welled up with tears all the same as he told her about the accident and how their wedding was ruined if they couldn’t get to Vegas by tomorrow.

A sob story, but whether the receptionist believed it or not, he told them he’d call a mechanic to go pick up their crashed car. Bakura, feeling more like he was playing the doting fiance than actually being one, offered Marik a couple tissues while rubbing his arm. They took seats to wait to be seen, Marik still dotting his eyes with the tissues Bakura handed him.

“Marik, I didn’t want to make you think I thought this was a joke. I’m sorry.”

Marik looked at Bakura confused, gently putting a hand to Bakura’s forehead. “You definitely need to get looked at first, you don’t say sorry for anything.”

Bakura grunted in pain, gently pushing Marik’s arm away. “Whatever. I’m trying to be bloody honest.”

“Whatever you want to say can wait for later, Fluffy. I don’t want you to have a concussion on our wedding day.”

“I’m surprised you still want to go through with it.”

Marik gave him a hurt look. Dammit, why did he have to blurt that out? Could he blame a concussion on that?

“Of course I do. It’s not like you crashed the car on purpose.”

As if on cue, a police officer walked through the door. Bakura sat rigidly, wanting to bolt. He knew they weren’t in trouble, but he was sure there were a few things he could still get taken in for. Marik seemed to stiffen too, for what reason Bakura didn’t really know.

The receptionist gestured to the two. “Over there, but maybe wait until they’re checked out. Seems like they literally hopped out of their car and walked here.”

The officer gave them a once over and sat in a chair across from them. “I’ll be wait’n here.”

“Please don’t arrest us, officer, we’re eloping and I don’t wanna get married in jail!” Marik whined.

Bakura flinched, wondering just how many people Marik planned to tell about this. The officer blinked in confusion. “I ain’t here to arrest you boys, gotta take an incident report for your accident.”

“O-Oh...we’re not in trouble?” Marik sniffed, giving the officer puppy eyes.

“Marik…”

“Not unless you plan to make trouble.” The officer grinned at the joke he made.

Much to Bakura’s relief, a nurse called him in. Marik didn’t want to leave Bakura’s side, so they ended up going in together. Marik only left Bakura’s side to look at everything in the office, picking up one of the magazines that was left for them.

“Peh, this is old stuff! Don’t they renew their subscriptions?”

“Marik.”

“Maybe the good stuff is out in the waiting room, I should go look–”

“Marik, please sit with me.”

Surprisingly, Marik dropped the magazine and rushed to Bakura’s side, brushing hair from Bakura’s face. “Are you okay? You don’t say please or I’m sorry and it’s scaring me.”

Bakura huffed in frustration. “I’m more worried about you, idiot. Can we not ignore the fact we nearly died trying to rush this bloody wedding? Why does it have to be tomorrow? We’re eloping, it’s not like we rented a venue yet.”

Marik pouted. "We didn't almost die, the stupid car's tire blew up!"

“Still doesn’t explain why we need to do this tomorrow.”

“Maybe I did book a place, but we’ve still got time for that.”

Bakura crossed his arms. “Then why the bloody hell are you fussing about it?”

Marik hesitated, looking away from Bakura. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

Bakura frowned, taking Marik’s chin and turning it back to face him. He wanted to tell him then, seeing how sad Marik already looked. But now wasn’t the right time, or a good time. He didn’t give a damn about the surprise and perhaps after he came clean about what he had to do, Marik would stop caring too.

“You’re not worried that much about the wedding itself, are you?”

“O-Of course I am, Bakura! It should be perfect, you only get one good one.”

The idea that Marik only wanted to marry him made guilt rear its head again. Bakura decided right then, as the doctor finally entered the room, that he needed to tell Marik what was going on. Ryou had been right; no more distractions, no more letting Marik interrupt him or assume things, he wasn’t going to lead Marik on anymore than he had.

Once it was decided their injuries were not severe enough to need anything more than a couple painkillers, the doctor gave them the okay to leave. The officer was still there waiting for them and offered them a ride to the station. Bakura felt nervous at the idea of sitting in the backseat, but Marik’s hand in his kept him from focusing too much on the trapped feeling the barred windows gave him.

They were halfway to the police station when Marik suddenly let go of Bakura's hand, gripping his hair in frustration.

“Frig! The rings!”

“Marik–”

“What if someone steals them?! We have to get them!”

“Marik, not now.”

“What’s going on back there?” The officer looked at them through the rear-view mirror, and Bakura flinched.

“Our wedding rings were in the car, we forgot to grab them. What if they get stolen?!” Marik grabbed Bakura’s arm in a panic, and once again Bakura couldn’t tell how much Marik was playing up. “Please, we need to get them now!”

“Marik, it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, Bakura! I won’t let anything else keep us from getting married, not this, and not some smelly petty thieves!”

“Whoa, easy there,” The officer said, “We got someone out there with the tow truck, I’ll make a quick call when we get to the station and they can bring your things over. Sound good?”

Marik finally relaxed, Bakura pulling Marik a bit closer. It was as much for his own comfort as it was to comfort Marik. Bakura wouldn’t say it, but he was growing concerned by how nervous and reactive Marik was getting as well. He wondered briefly if there really was some alternative motive to his plan to elope.

“Where’ya two thinkin’ of getting married? Headin’ to Vegas?”

Marik's heard perked up. “Yeah! Wait, how did you know that?”

“Ah, lots of people drop by this town before continuing off to Vegas. You’re not the first runaway lovers we’ve gotten. Ah, congratulations, by the way. Sorry it’s been rough, with the accident and all.”

“Oh, thank you!” Marik looked up at Bakura, eyes glittering with excitement, “Our first congrats, Bakura!”

Bakura grunted, not wanting to admit how nice it did feel to have their engagement acknowledged. Maybe that’s all Marik had been looking for this whole time.

* * *

After making their statements and Marik’s open relief seeing their things were untouched and the rings were safe, they went to check on their car. Finding out how wrecked it was and that it might take a couple days to fix was frustrating, especially for Bakura. He didn’t want to be stuck here when everything fell apart, and Marik was almost inconsolable. Almost.

Bakura had to admit, the angry determination on his face was quite attractive.

While getting necessities and food for their stay, Marik told as much of the town about their engagement as he could. Bakura guessed it was to get someone to drive them to Vegas for their wedding. He even went as far as making up stories to make Zorc or even the Pharaoh sound like an abusive ex that they were running from.

As amusing as the thought was, it bothered him to hear how sympathetic these random people were towards him and Marik for it. Even if it did get them a discount on a hotel room to stay in until their car was fixed.

While Marik showered, Bakura took out the rings from his bag. He opened the box, giving them one last look before he ruined everything for them both. Marik really wanted this, but never told him what made him decide to marry him.

He never really asked either. And, if he was honest, he wasn’t sure why _he_ wanted it enough to lead Marik on this long.

That was a lie, he knew. If Marik reacted badly enough, he knew he’d lose more than just their engagement. Bakura didn’t want to lose more than he had to. But now he was beginning to accept he would have to take a lot of losses to finally get what he’d been chasing for millennia.

Bakura looked up hearing the shower turn off, closing the ring box as Marik walked out of the bathroom. He had to force himself to focus, the sight of Marik’s freshly cleaned body and the tease of a happy trail above the towel making that a great challenge.

“Marik, what made you decide to propose to me?”

Marik smiled, fiddling with the towel around his waist. “I just...wanted to obviously! Eloping sounded fun and it’s perfect for us!”

Bakura frowned. “So...it’s just because it’s fun?”

Marik gripped the towel this time, walking quickly to his clothes. “No! Silly Fluffy, it’s more than just for fun.”

“Then what, Marik? We have been partners for a long time, why do we need to be married now?”

Marik froze completely for a moment, then slumped. “...Did you say yes, Bakura?”

“What?”

“When I gave you the rings, even while on the balcony, did you _ever_ say yes?”

Bakura’s heart sunk. He really did just go along for the ride, didn’t he? He wanted this badly, so badly he forgot to say he did to the one who proposed to him. “Marik–”

“Do you want to get married, Bakura?”

“I told you before, I want this.”

“Married? Because this is a forever thing, Bakura!” Marik spun around, and Bakura could see anger simmering in his eyes again. As much as he was attracted to that look, it burned when turned against him.

“Yes, Marik, but I don’t know if you want to marry _me_.”

“Why else would I propose to you, Bakura?!” Marik’s arms flailed out, “_I want to marry you_, it’s in the friggin’ song, right there, I meant it!”

Bakura set the ring box aside, being quiet for a moment. This was it. He needed to tell Marik now.

“Well, say something, Fluffy!”

Bakura looked up, and something in Marik’s expression cooled his anger into confusion. “I want to marry you, Marik. But it won’t last as long as you want it to.”

“...Bakura?”

“I have one last shot to face the Pharaoh and get my revenge. But once I do that, if I fail? I don’t think I’ll be coming back.”

Marik was silent. Bakura had to look away; he couldn’t look at Marik’s face, didn’t want to see how much pain he was going to cause his only partner.

“If I win there wouldn’t be much of a world to be married in. If I lose, I’d make you a widow before our first wedding anniversary. We’re villains, Marik. We don’t get happy endings. So if you don’t want this anymore, I understand. I wish I told you sooner, but I couldn’t.”

Bakura felt the ring box fall against his hand and pulled away from it, gripping his thighs to make himself continue.

“If that ruins what you have planned then... I’m sorry, Marik.”

“You thought I didn’t know.”

The flat tone of Marik’s voice made Bakura look up. The mixture of determination and understanding in his eyes only confused Bakura more.

“I didn’t want to bring it up because _duh_! It’s a bummer! I hoped… maybe having an awesome wedding to remember me by would make you happy. If this is the last few months I get to spend with you, Bakura, then I don’t want us to regret anything.”

Bakura was in shock. “You...knew?”

“Tombkeeper, remember? I know what the stupid Pharaoh has to do, what you have to do.”

“I...don’t understand.”

Marik adjusted his towel, walking to Bakura and kneeling in front of him. His eyes shone with tears that refused to spill. “Even if I never get to see you again, I want to stay with you. So... why not be partners for life?”

The walls Bakura put up trying to keep this secret, the ones ready to defend and fight for his cause, crumbled under that gaze. He didn’t need them, not around Marik. He was there, he understood, and he really wanted to marry him _no matter what_.

Next thing he knew, he was kneeling on the floor with Marik, clutching his shoulders like a lifeline as he held Marik close. Marik's arms wound around Bakura's body and he melted into the touch. The relief from the fear he never realized he had freed him. All this time he was afraid that Marik would get hurt, never realizing how much it hurt to think Marik wouldn’t be there for him. Bakura was pulled out of his thoughts with the sound of a gentle sniffle.

“I didn’t care if you wanted to marry me or not,” Marik whimpered, “I was scared you’d forget me, that all I was...”

Bakura didn’t need to hear the rest. He pulled back to look at Marik, gently wiping tears from his cheeks and tidying the now smudged eyeliner. “You’re hard to simply forget, Marik. You...”

Bakura’s cheeks reddened. “You’re more to me than just a partner in my revenge.”

Marik’s eyes brightened and Bakura was pulled into a brief yet intense kiss. Marik squeezed him enough that it hurt, but Bakura didn’t care. He finally had someone to count on, who wanted to stay by his side and wouldn’t turn on him even if it meant the world falling into darkness. A part of Bakura hoped that never would happen, he would rather die again over watching Marik be consumed by the dark Zorc unleashed.

“You know,” Marik said after some time, “all that fanfiction made eloping and getting married seem a lot less stressful than it really is.”

Bakura pulled back, raising an eyebrow. “You got the idea to elope...from fanfiction?”

Marik looked embarrassed, laughing quietly. “Yeah.”

Bakura smiled, stifling a laugh and leaning his forehead against Marik’s “Was it thiefshipping, by any chance?”

He could almost feel the heat radiating off of Marik’s face. Bakura could only imagine what Marik expected with fanfiction as a reference point. He cupped Marik’s cheek in his hand “Why copy fanfiction, my dear Marik? We can make our own story.”

Marik leaned into the touch, smiling mischievously. “Okay, but those lavender oil massages sounded _amazing_ and I want one from you on our honeymoon.”

Bakura chuckled, nudging his nose against Marik’s. “Deal.” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't reference fanfic without mentioning those thiefshipping lavender oil backrubs :P -rubs hands together- I hope y'all are ready for next week, because I've been eager to post these last couple chapters since I started _writing_ them~
> 
> ...enough in fact I may just post the last two on the same day, but we'll see how the week goes ;P


	6. TRACK 06- Marry the Night

By the next day, it seemed word had spread about the two young gays eager to be married. As Marik and Bakura walked to check on the car, many of the people in the town stopped to offer their services if they planned to have the wedding there. Bakura looked at Marik every time he turned them down and knew each time he was considering taking up their offers.

So when a little old seamstress walked up and offered to help them with their outfits, Bakura agreed before Marik could reply. Marik looked at him strangely as he took her business card, only speaking up when the woman was out of sight.

“B-But Bakura, Vegas!”

“Well, we _could_ keep waiting for our perfect Vegas wedding,” Bakura smirked, holding the card up between his middle and pointer fingers, “Or take advantage of what this town has to offer us and still have another in Vegas.”

Marik wrinkled his nose. “You can’t get married twice to the same person, Bakura!”

“Well, then I guess we can just walk around and wait for our car to be fixed. Nevermind that here we get wedding outfits tailored to our every need, or possibly have a feast made for us in our honour–”

“You know what, I have a better idea Bakura! We can have a wedding here, take all the goodies these fools offer us, and then enjoy our real wedding in Vegas!”

Bakura chuckled, linking his arm with Marik’s. “You really do have the best plans, Marik.”

“About time you see that, Bakura.” Marik replied, giving him a mischievous smile.

It was obvious the car was not close to finished, but they simply waved it off, inviting the mechanic instead to their wedding in return for a fixed car as a wedding gift. He seemed ecstatic for them both, mentioning his boyfriend knew all the best wedding venues and to give him a call for advice.

They left with the number in hand, Marik wasting no time in dialing it on his cellphone. “Now all we need is decorations and a cake...Oh Bakura, this is so exciting!”

Bakura felt similar, but the only tell was a small smile on his face. “Do we really need them?”

“Shh, Bakura I’m on– Hello, your boyfriend told us to call you; we’re eloping and he said you know the perfect places to get married here!”

Bakura only rolled his eyes as they continued to walk, trying to keep his face neutral despite how loudly Marik discussed their wedding plans over his cellphone. Bakura casually guided Marik over to a bakery with a cake display in the window. It seemed to get Marik’s attention, because his conversation over the phone came to a slow stop.

“I’ll call you back Jamie, thanks for the help!” Marik said into the phone, hanging up quickly without tearing his eyes from the cake. “We need this cake, Bakura.”

“Oh, I know.” Bakura almost purred, pleased his idea had worked.

“Well, what are we waiting for?!” Marik grabbed Bakura’s hand, pulling him into the bakery.

The teenage cashier jumped at the intrusion, but quickly recovered. “Oh it’s you guys, how can we–”

“We need a wedding cake!”

“O-Okay...umm, give me a moment.” The teen went into the back, calling out. “Auntie, there’s a couple out here looking for wedding cake!”

“Oh, lemme guess,” came a voice in response, peeking out of the back room. The lady grinned, hair up in a bun and covered in a hair net. “Well then! I guess you decided to take my niece up on the offer, hey? Where’s the wedding?”

“We’re still picking a–” Bakura tried to explain, but Marik interrupted.

“We want to be married by tomorrow, can you get a cake done by then?”

The woman blinked, then grinned. “I can damn well try, go sit down boys and I’ll get you some samples ready!”

Marik beamed and pulled Bakura to some wood chairs. Bakura hissed, unprepared for the sudden movement and stumbled a little. Marik froze, looking a little guilty. “Sorry, you’re still…”

“I’m fine, Marik.” Bakura huffed, sitting down next to Marik carefully. “I get it, you’re excited.”

Marik still held Bakura’s hand and squeezed. Bakura squeezed back, enjoying the sweet smells wafting from the bakery’s kitchen.

After a taste test, they decided on a four tiered chocolate cake. Well, Marik decided, Bakura really didn’t care about the cake so much. They spent an hour in shops looking for decorations, Marik mentioning whenever he could that they were going to get married in the little town.

Many people simply congratulated them, others asked to be invited, and a few offering to bring food and drinks to the impromptu wedding. Bakura seemed to like the idea of people bringing food offerings to them, and Marik was just excited that people who weren’t fangirls wanted to be at their wedding.

They visited venues the rest of the afternoon. Despite the nice places they visited, Marik seemed set on an outdoor wedding.

“All the most romantic weddings are outside, and it would make it easy to escape if you end up murdering someone.”

Bakura snorted. “Too small of a town. Besides, if I stab anyone, it will be on our honeymoon.”

“See, this is why I wanted a Vegas wedding, it wouldn’t be weird for someone to get stabbed there!”

“How thoughtful, Marik.” Bakura said in a flat tone, but a smirk betrayed how touched he was by the comment.

Marik saved the best place for last: a park in the middle of town with a lake and a small cabin for changing. It was a popular venue, but not during that season. Bakura looked around, surprised that a pocket of paradise could exist in a town like this.

Marik pulled Bakura’s arm close and gestured to gazebo in the center of the park. “This is perfect! Heh, it’s almost too perfect, right out of a fantasy… or fanfiction.”

Bakura pressed a little closer to Marik. “After all this insanity, don’t you think we deserve a fantasy wedding?”

Marik grinned, wrapping his arm around Bakura’s waist. “We do.”

Marik took the opportunity to grab the seamstress’ business card out of Bakura’s back pocket and called the number on it, making sure they had an appointment with her after dinner. Bakura was mildly impressed and turned on at how easily Marik had pulled something like that on him. But he was exhausted from walking all around town, and quietly envied Marik’s ability to run on excitement alone.

* * *

The seamstress must have been the most patient woman on the planet, because Marik’s time with her took only a couple hours of conversation as he put on his tux and she made any adjustments he wanted. Marik seemed especially pleased, enough to peck Bakura’s cheek when returning afterward. “Your turn, Fluffy.”

Bakura stood from the chair he was in, nervous to even mention what he wanted. The woman was just moving the tuxes when he walked into the back room. When she saw him, the seamstress’ eyes lit up. “Ahh, there’s the bridegroom-to-be!”

“Umm…”

“Sorry, Marik let it slip you’re the one walking down the aisle. I’m excited to see what kind of entrance you plan to make!”

Bakura hesitated, gripping the Ring from over his shirt to comfort himself. “Let’s...just try some of those first. No big modifications for a next day wedding, right?”

The seamstress deflated a little, but still kept her smile up. “Of course, pick what you like and we’ll see how it fits. All these should be your size and just need to be adjusted.”

Bakura picked a tux out at random, just holding it out to her and waiting. The seamstress didn’t take it, and he looked over to check she was still there.

She was, but staring at him with a sad expression. “Honey, your fiance told me you might want something a bit...prettier?”

Bakura inhaled sharply, pulling his arm back like she’d slapped it.

“Look, I know small town folk aren’t known for being the _most_ open-minded. But considering what you’ve been through? Fuck all that.”

Bakura was surprised to hear such a sweet old lady curse like that.

“You tell me what you really want to wear, be it a dress or a tux or both, and I’ll do it. It’s your wedding day, hun’. I’m here to make you look so stunning, you sweep your new husband right off his feet!”

Bakura inhaled, then exhaled, wary of the acceptance being offered. But...he was greedy. And what she just offered him…

“What exactly is ‘both’?”

The seamstress’ eyes lit up, and she scampered to a desk on the other side of the room. She carefully pulled a book off the shelf, gesturing Bakura to sit on a nearby sofa before setting the book open in his lap. “Pick one of those, I’ll grab what we’ll need. Ooh, I just knew you’d be fun!”

Bakura looked in the book, turning each page slowly. Maxi skirts paired with fancy vests and ties, a simple tux with an added flowing train and veil, knee-high belted skirts with capes that acted as a train; so many choices that he almost felt overwhelmed. Sure, he wanted a dress, but the simple drawings proved just how greedy for this he was.

He definitely wanted both.

The woman returned with another rack, with various pieces he recognized being pieces of each outfit. “I’ll get started as soon as I can, all you need to do is tell me what you decide and let me take your measurements.”

Bakura hesitated, staring at a single page before going over to the seamstress, turning the book to show her what he’d picked. “I like this one.”

She nodded easily, taking the book and going to her desk to grab a sticky note and measuring tape. She smacked the sticky note onto the page and grinned up at Bakura. “Let’s, as your fiance puts it, ‘make you sexy’!”

Bakura stifled a groan of embarrassment, ignoring the woman’s amused chuckling.

By the time Bakura came out from the back of the shop, Marik was sitting in the waiting room with a bag of what smelled like tacos he’d somehow found in this small town. “Where did you find bloody tacos?”

Something in Bakura’s tone must have set something off in Marik, because his face brightened much more than Bakura thought it could as he stood up. “Oh, I asked for it special! I said it helped when you’re nervous and they even offered to have them at our wedding.”

“It could stain our outfits, Marik.” Bakura grumbled, but regardless of his tone he wound his arm in Marik’s and buried his face in Marik’s shoulder.

Damn his excitement, he couldn’t hide anything from Marik anymore to save his life.

Marik said nothing about it, but smirked just a bit as he guided Bakura to the door.

“See you boys bright and early tomorrow, we need to make sure it all fits!” The seamstress called from the back, likely hearing the jingle of the door opening.

Bakura pressed himself comfortably against Marik, which caused Marik to finally giggle. “Seems like it went well, hmm?” Marik nuzzled his nose into Bakura’s hair and murmured. “Cuddly Kitty.”

Sure, Marik was more private in saying it, but it made Bakura’s cheeks hot all the same. “Not in public.” he hissed, trying to hide how much he enjoyed that bit of affection.

Marik, it seemed, didn’t feel like playing dumb today. “I don’t think anyone else heard me, Kitty.” Marik continued murmuring into Bakura’s hair, causing the other to shiver.

“Mmph…” Bakura pulled back to look up, catching the amused yet fond look on Marik’s face. He was thankful, for once, for Marik’s big mouth. Seeing the outfit put together on his body made him happier than just a tux would, and he knew he wouldn’t have admitted wanting a dress so easily.

Considering what he did pick, Bakura couldn’t wait for Marik to finally see his wedding outfit.

* * *

The next day was hectic, the couple having spent the rest of last night writing their vows. They had asked to get a wake up call early so they could get ready, but nothing prepared either of them for how busy it would get. They left together to take a look at the cake, then split off; Bakura checking on decorations and Marik going for his final fitting.

Bakura got in for his own fitting just before noon, stomach growling but no time to stop for lunch and knowing the whole town would be busy getting set up to really find a place to eat. He’d refused most snack offers throughout the day, his nerves making him unable to think about food.

When the seamstress stepped out to greet him, it was with a tray full of small cut sandwiches and a tea set. Bakura tried to decline, but she only poured him a cup. “I know it’s a busy day for you today, and I know if you’re like any other brides I’ve seen to? You haven’t eaten.”

Bakura sat back, hand itching to grab one of the sandwiches. “I can eat at the wedding.”

She laughed at that. “Hun’, if I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that. Go ahead and eat, I’m just finishing up your fiance’s outfit.”

The seamstress spun around and left him with the tray, leaving no room to argue. Bakura relaxed in the chair, picking up a couple of sandwiches to eat after a couple minutes. By the time she returned, only one sandwich remained on the tray, Bakura filling the teacup with a second helping of tea.

Bakura scowled at the pleased look on her face, trying to look annoyed despite how embarrassed he was. She obviously ignored his expression. “I swear having a little snack won’t affect how things will fit, that’s what most worry about anyways.”

Bakura rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his tea before standing. “Are you ready for me now?”

“Well, that’s why I came to get you, hun’!” The seamstress called back, almost running into the back room.

Bakura followed, surprised when a pile of clothes was held out to him by the beaming old lady. “The changing room is over there. Call me if you need help, no need to be shy.”

He walked into the room she pointed him to, staring at the clothes and tracing his fingers where there was embroidered patterns sewn into what he guessed was the vest. He noticed that the changing room only had a small floor length mirror. He avoided looking at it as he dressed, somewhat scared that he’d look awful in his outfit despite all the careful measurements the seamstress made.

He was just pulling on the jacket when he heard a knock, opening the door for her to keep turned away from the mirror. She gasped and covered her mouth, eyes glittering in excitement. “You look stunning!”

Noticing the nervous doubt on Bakura’s face, she gestured to the mirror. “Did you look at yourself?”

Bakura shook his head, still too nervous to turn around.

“I swear on my life, you look amazing. I don’t lie to my customers, lies don’t make happy brides _or_ happy bridegrooms.”

Bakura laughed, a bit bitterly. “Yeah, I learned that lesson already.”

He ignored the concerned look on her face, turning to face the mirror. “Relax, we settled everything be...fore…”

Bakura couldn’t speak, stunned by his appearance in the mirror. He could see the seamstress’ grin before she stepped in and lifted his arm, checking the fit of the jacket and mumbling as she made notes on what still needed adjusting.

Not that Bakura paid any attention. He was focused on his reflection; how well the pants fit to the shape of his legs, how the skirt flowed out behind him while parted just above the knee to show off his pants. The layers of the vest and jacket on top of the shirt were very warm, but it put the outfit together so well Bakura couldn’t imagine he’d look any better without both of them.

The seamstress pulled a stepping stool up behind him, pinning the purple and blue boutonniere to his lapel. Bakura guessed Malik gave it to her to put on him. “Judging by your silence, I take it you see what I mean.”

Bakura laughed, surprised that he sounded choked up. “Gods…”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” She said, offering Bakura a box of tissues from a side table with a smile. Bakura declined them, embarrassed that he even got emotional over his outfit.

The seamstress stepped down from the stool, moving in front of him to get a better look. “Are you sure you want to keep that necklace on, hun? It’s a little…”

Bakura frowned, putting his hand protectively over the Ring. “I’ll make it work. It’s...important to me.”

The seamstress hummed, noting how Bakura held onto it. “Well I don’t doubt that, it’s like it’s part of you! It looks old too.”

She adjusted the jacket, gently moving the rope of the Ring to keep hidden under Bakura’s collar. “New outfit, Blue ribbon, just need something borrowed.”

Bakura looked in the mirror, just barely containing a smirk. “I think I have something for that too.”

The seamstress looked up at Bakura, chuckling. “Well prepared, aren’t you? Anyways, I want to look at you just in the vest, and then we’re done here.”

The seamstress continued her work in silence, letting Bakura have the moment with his thoughts in peace. All he could think of was what he nearly cheated himself out of in trying to keep his concerns from Marik. He knew he’d lose this too in the end, but at least he had this moment now.

When the old lady offered him tissues a second time, Bakura didn’t refuse them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl, the scenes with seamstress I had planned out since the first chapter got written out :P
> 
> At first the wedding was going to be on this chapter, but it got quite...long so it ended up being extended a chapter so...
> 
> Next chapter: WEDDING TIME!! :D


	7. TRACK 07- I'm Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I'm convinced I did...NO justice in describing Bakura's dress, here's the dress that inspired it; [the one on the right](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/88/55/97/885597470d5edd8644f2824bcba8150c.jpg) :P
> 
> THE WEDDING IS FINALLY HERE :D

The closer the wedding came to happening, the more excited and nervous Bakura felt. He’d requested that Marik not see him when the time came to dress up, but he hoped to at least see Marik one more time before the wedding started. He needed to, to assure himself that Marik would be there. He didn’t think Marik would really run after how much they put into planning, but nervousness nagged at him to make sure.

Bakura still had one last task before he could start preparing for the wedding. Bakura decided he wanted to surprise Marik and try to find musicians to play their wedding music. If they were going all out, why stop at a radio playing off an iPod?

It wasn’t as easy as he hoped, but he was lucky enough to eventually find a small group of string musicians that did weddings. They showed him the music they already knew, and Bakura quietly wondered which god he pleased when he spotted the very song he’d chosen to make his entrance with.

They had very little time to practice his entrance, the string musicians warming up as the coordinator (which he guessed Marik had hired in case of his absence since he was still nowhere to be seen) directed him and the kid chosen to be their ring-bearer.

Bakura grew more worried he wouldn’t see Marik at all before getting ready, despite how well everything started coming together. The musicians left to relax before the main event just as some guests with food started to arrive. A few of these guests came out to help set up all the chairs and were putting blue and purple ribbons along the row closest to the aisle.

Bakura was starting to pace with nothing else to occupy his time when Marik finally showed up to the park. He looked dishevelled and as nervous as Bakura felt, and Bakura could only grin knowing he likely was in a similar state.

Marik sped over to Bakura's side when he noticed the lack of the radio, whining quietly. “Bakura, you were supposed to be in charge of music! Where’s our radio?!”

Bakura shrugged. “In your dressing room for now, likely. I had a change of plans, but I promise you’ll like it better.”

Marik pouted, looking at Bakura unsure. “But Bakura…”

Bakura took Marik’s hands, smirking confidently. “Trust me, Marik. Only the best for _us_, right?”

“Hmm… okay, but nothing matches Gaga’s voice so we’re using the radio for the first dance!”

"You're really set on using that song, aren't you? Bakura sighed, but he didn't look that annoyed by it anymore.

"Of course I am!" Marik then paused, shifting in place. “Do we really have to wait until the wedding now to see each other? I want to know we’ll still look sexy together, what if our outfits don’t work and–”

“Marik,” Bakura pulled Marik closer, stopping him from fidgeting, “I’m nervous too, but it’ll work out.”

“I still don’t like not being able to watch you walk down the aisle, I’ll miss your big entrance!”

“I’m sure _someone_ will record it, and you can watch it later.”

Secretly, Bakura really wanted to see Marik’s reaction to his entrance as well. He only stuck to the plans out of stubborn refusal to admit what he really wanted now. Even if Marik felt the same way he did.

“Can I at least turn around when you’re half way?”

The look Marik gave him was irresistible. Bakura sighed, kissing Marik’s cheek. “I won’t complain if you do.”

Marik grinned, but before he could say anything else, the coordinator pulled him aside. Bakura pouted at the timing. Not long after seeing the seamstress arrive, he headed to his changing room. She was already there waiting for him, not just to help with the outfit but also his makeup.

Once they were both satisfied with how he looked, she slipped out a moment and directed him to get changed while she went to check on Marik for him.

He had started adjusting the tie around his neck when he looked up at the mirror, staring at how he looked in the reflection. His hand carefully brushed his hair out of his face, but Bakura wasn’t controlling that arm. “_You’ll do fine, Spirit._”

Bakura grunted, somewhat annoyed that Ryou interrupted the moment.

“_I know, I’ll go, but I just wanted to wish you luck and give you my blessing. I know that’s important. You look really nice, by the way._”

“Thank you host, now if you don’t mind…”

Without another word, Ryou slipped back from their consciousness, and Bakura was alone again with his thoughts. He noticed there was both a bouquet and a boutonniere set on a table. He picked the bouquet up out of curiosity and looked in the mirror.

Then he picked up the boutonniere, smiling a bit as he pinned it to his lapel. Fuck it, why not both?

* * *

Bakura held the bouquet in his hand, fiddling with the ribbon as he waited for his cue to start walking. He was nervous, and some part of him was still scared he’d walk out to no one waiting for him. The seamstress that helped with his outfit gently adjusted the flowing fabric of his skirt to look it’s best as he walked. “You’ll be fine. The moment you see your future husband and he sees you? All those nerves will just melt away.”

Bakura scoffed quietly. “I’m not sure how he’ll react to me.”

“Don’t worry about it hun’, you look gorgeous. I swear on my life he'll see that too.”

Gorgeous. That was a new one. Bakura felt heat on his cheeks, but wasn’t sure how much was his nerves and how much was just the warmth of the cabin. Would Marik think the same? He wasn’t sure if he’d like what he chose to wear or would be upset that he was prettier.

Not that he believed he was prettier than Marik, he could never match Marik in attractiveness.

Before his thoughts could get away from him, Bakura heard the music start to play. He held his breath, the ring-bearer giving him a quick thumbs up before walking through the doors. Bakura slowly released the air from his lungs, and started his walk down the aisle.

He didn’t really notice the townsfolk watching him, his eyes firmly on Marik’s back. He had asked for Marik to do it, but now he wished he could just see Marik’s face. He swore he could hear Marik say ‘Friggin’ Bakura, making my eyeliner run already’ past the music.

He must have heard right, because a few people in the front chuckled. Before he could prepare himself, Marik turned around before he was given the cue to do so.

Bakura’s stomach did flips by how reverently Marik looked at him. He felt like a god at that moment, in a way he’d never felt before. Bakura felt the same towards Marik, stunned by how well the suit fitted him yet left just enough to still show off the midriff he was so proud of. 

He loved him. He loved Marik so much.

The closer Bakura got, the more he could see how glassy Marik’s eyes were already. And his smile was softer than he ever dreamed it could be. Despite Marik’s complaint, his eyeliner was still on point. Bakura wasn’t sure he could say the same for his own anymore.

Damn it all, he swore he wouldn’t cry during the bloody wedding.

Stepping up onto the gazebo, Bakura carefully dabbed his eyes with the tissue the officiant offered, and Marik’s smile grew. “You’re almost as sexy as I am, Bakura.”

"I didn't think it was possible that you could be sexier, proved me very wrong." Bakura replied, smirking at Marik in return. 

He hated that the seamstress had been right, but didn’t exactly care about it at the moment. Marik took his free hand as the officiant began to speak. “We are all gathered here to witness the union between Marik and Bakura, who I’m sure by now everyone in the town knows about.”

A few chuckles came from the crowd, Marik ducking his head a little in embarrassment.

“I think we all know this town wasn’t your ideal stop, but we’re all happy that you decided on sharing this special moment with us. Of course, all of us were happy to collaborate to make this the best for you both.”

The crowd clapped and a couple people whooped and cheered. Bakura felt strange about having this much support when these people had no clue who they were. It was somewhat more tolerable than being chased around by fangirls. Somewhat.

The officiant waited for the crowd to calm before continuing. “This will be a great step forward in your lives together, though it’s clear you aren’t new to helping each other through hardship. May this union bring new strength to the bond you have, as you go through your lives as partners.”

“Partners for life.” Bakura muttered, squeezing Marik’s hand. Marik squeezed back, eyes becoming glossy again.

“Do you, Marik, take Bakura as your husband and partner?”

Marik inhaled, clearly trying not to show he was tearing up. “I do. For life.”

Bakura heard someone in the crowd sniffle and nearly lost his own composure. He rubbed his thumb over the back of Marik’s hand, hiding just how much it meant to hear him say it in front of an entire town of people.

“And do you, Bakura, take Marik as your husband and partner?”

“I…” Bakura’s voice cracked, and he cleared his throat to try again, “I do.”

Marik lifted a hand to Bakura’s cheek, gently wiping away the tear that fell while also neatening up Bakura’s now smudged eyeliner. His eyes were still glossy, yet Marik continued to look at Bakura like he was the only thing in his world. How long Bakura desired that kind of look from Marik, and he briefly feared this was a wonderful dream he’d soon wake up from.

The officiant allowed them to have a moment before speaking again. “Now we will hear their vows, which both have written for each other. The rings will be exchanged during the vows to make sure this ceremony ends before the sun sets.”

Marik blinked, looking at Bakura in surprise. Bakura just shrugged, handing his bouquet to the officiant and smiling a little. “Thought you wouldn’t want to be married in the dark.”

Marik leaned in as if to kiss Bakura, stopped, and then pulled away again, biting his lips and smiling sheepishly. The ring-bearer walked up the steps and held the rings out to Bakura. Bakura took Marik’s ring and stared at it. He thought about what this all meant to him, their partnership and their relationship. What he might feel slipping this ring onto Marik’s finger and how final it all was.

It didn’t feel like the end, it felt like he was making a promise. And he was scared he couldn’t keep it. Despite his thoughts, Bakura took Marik’s left hand gently. He lifted his head, determination in his eyes as he spoke the vows he’d fussed over the whole night before.

“Marik, I don’t need to tell you how I feel. You know how I feel, and have always known. I was afraid that I would be the one to darken your world, but you were the one to bring light into mine. Through all the stupid schemes and escaping death, I couldn’t have asked for a better partner. I’ve wanted this for a very long time.”

Bakura looked at the ring in his hand, felt the weight of the Ring around his neck. After a moment, he carefully slid the wedding band onto Marik’s finger. “With this ring, I promise that if I am lost, I will follow your light through the Shadows until I find you again. But until then, I will be the best partner you could ask for.”

He looked up, almost forgetting the rest of his vows when seeing tears fall down Marik’s face. Ceremony be damned, he kissed them away and held Marik’s hand to his heart. “You own what’s left of my heart, Marik Ishtar. All I knew was darkness, and you showed me what joy there still can be in life. In living. I want to experience it all with you.”

Marik wiped his eyes, Bakura could hear a couple people in the crowd sniffling now. Marik took his time with his turn, resting his hand on Bakura’s cheek and just admiring him silently. As he took Bakura’s ring, Bakura offered him his hand. He felt it tremble but didn’t acknowledge it, and Marik didn’t seem to either.

Marik looked into Bakura’s eyes as he spoke. “When the night has come, and the land is dark. and the moon is the only light we'll see. I won't be afraid, no I won't be afraid. Just as long as you stand by me.”

Bakura looked confused, then amused. Marik had bragged that he got his vows finished first, but it became clear how he’d finished so quickly. Yet Bakura understood the meaning Marik put behind the lyrics this time.

He tried not to smirk as he mouthed the lyrics, Marik focused only on putting the ring on Bakura’s finger. “If the sky that we look upon should tumble and fall, or the mountain should crumble to the sea. I won't cry, I won't shed a tear, just as long as you stand… stand by me.”

Marik clearly looked nervous as some of the crowd chuckled and others hummed the song, the officiant cleared his throat. “Is...that all?”

“No, No wait! Gimme a second–”

Bakura let Marik think for a moment, scrunching his face trying to think of something else on the dot, before finally speaking up. “It’s okay if that’s it, Marik. I know what you meant.”

Marik blinked and smiled in relief, taking both of Bakura’s hands before nodding to the officiant. The officiant then lifted his arms. “Then by the power vested in me, I pronounce you husbands and partners for life. You may k–”

Bakura didn’t hear the rest, Marik dipping him into a passionate kiss. Bakura’s arms automatically wound around Marik’s shoulders, melting into the kiss and Marik’s arms. He could hear the muffled cheers and whistles around him as Marik pulled him back up, his mind still a fog as he walked down the aisle with his new husband and laughing as Marik spun him.

The only time he could remember feeling this way before was in a faint memory, filled with the scent of roasted pork and the feeling of love wrapped around him as they danced around in sand.

* * *

Their entrance to the after party was, Bakura had to admit, sexy as hell. Bakura had his jacket slung over one shoulder and tossed it to the closest chair as they had their first dance. It was everything Marik had said it would be, he even added a couple moves of his own that had been dug up from his long buried memories.

He could tell Ryou was curiously snooping through these memories as they came, but he was too busy enjoying his wedding to pay his host any mind.

Many townsfolk came up to give their congratulations, the seamstress sneaking in time to get pictures with the two. She claimed it was just to add to her collection of proudest outfits, but the three extra goofier pictures told Bakura she might have gotten attached.

It took awhile to get done since Marik wouldn't move until he got the video of Bakura’s entrance, which he’d demanded the teen that recorded it send to his phone.

At the end of the night, they stepped out to have time alone. It didn’t last long, as the mechanic drove up to their venue in their car. He stepped out, waving to them as he ran over to hand them the keys. “Congratulations, you two! Sorry for slipping out before your dance, but I’m sure Jamie will tell me all about it. The car should be good to get you to Vegas, or farther if you need it.”

“Thank you!” Marik energy picked up again, eyes bright as he looked at Bakura. “Let’s go pick up our stuff and head to Vegas now!”

“No goodbyes? You seem to get along with a lot of those people.” Bakura teased.

“Nah, I think they’ll understand. Let’s get my radio and then we’ll go.”

Despite what he’d said, Bakura went to find the seamstress to thank her and say his goodbyes. She hugged him tightly, telling him to have fun and never let go of ‘his light’. He casually walked around more, waiting for Marik to get out with the radio.

He lingered a little longer than he really meant to, making the excuse that he wanted to snag a couple things as mementos. He knew Marik would be annoyed that they couldn’t leave quickly, but the community of the place felt familiar to him. Like a home he couldn’t remember.

Bakura could only leave when Marik came back to get him.

They went to the hotel to grab their things, Bakura feeling more relaxed now that the car felt a lot more sturdy as he drove. After packing their things (and a few extra mementos) into the car, they just sat in the car and looked around.

“...I think I might miss this place.”

“Yeah. Good times, and no fangirls! I was worried there’d be at least one in Vegas.”

Bakura frowned, glancing at Marik. “Then why go there at all?”

“We’d get married in disguise! It’d be cool, like a spy movie.”

Bakura hummed, not really as irritated by the comment as he would normally be. He leaned his head against Marik’s shoulder. “And easy to get away with a stabbing. Clever plan, Marik.”

“Of course it was! I was even going to get sword swallowers or knife jugglers so it would be easy to cover up–”

Marik’s eyes suddenly widened and he pulled away from Bakura, looking sheepish.

“...Marik?”

“Well, I-I know you _really_ like your knives so, umm…”

Bakura grinned after coming to the realization, leaning closer. “Was that your surprise for me, my _husband_?” He drew out the word, enjoying how it made Marik shiver.

“Yeah...but the rental time is up now, and I don’t have enough to pay for them! Besides, we got married once already…”

Bakura leaned back against his seat. “Well, you did call this one the fake wedding. Aren’t we going to have the real one now?”

Marik pouted, playing with the boutonniere still pinned to the lapel of his suit. “Well, maybe the Vegas one can be the fake...or our honeymoon.”

Bakura turned on the car, picking up Marik’s iPod to start the music. “I think a honeymoon in Vegas sounds like a bloody good time.”

“And we could shoot our parody video there, and tell the fangirls our wedding is in it so they’ll pay us lots of money.”

Bakura’s smile grew wicked. “Hmm, embezzling our fangirls to pay for our honeymoon? How evil of you, Marik.”

Marik grinned back and winked at Bakura. “I learned from one of the best villains I know.”

Bakura laughed and revved the engine of their convertible, speeding out of the little town and heading towards their next adventure in Vegas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed, and thank you for your comments and readership <3 First time doing a YGOTAS fic and the first time in a long time that I've written thiefshipping~

**Author's Note:**

> Marry the (K)Night Playlist: [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5QXQR9Q3KmOi2pE2RwWSqx) [Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLfJkKmOkKbP5TnCVawv-mz59iw1IImwKh)


End file.
